Paths Yet to Cross
by Lycorise
Summary: Aneril and Vareysa; their lives before they met at the beginning of the Planemeld, during the Alliance War.


**Chapter summary:** Some families are given, and some are found. Some are taken for granted, but Vareysa knows to cherish hers above all else.

* * *

Some might say it was fate that they met – providence, even. But she knew _very_ well that it was pure, dumb luck.

Llethasi had been working the forge then, perspiration dotting her forehead, skin heated by the fires she worked with, brows furrowed in single-minded focus as she shaped glowing steel against the anvil. Hammer and future-blade rang out in time with each heartbeat, the rhythmic thumps claiming its place in her ears, drowning out any and every possible distraction – save for the customer's bell.

And it wasn't even the bell that brought a lull in her concentration. It was her own muscles, aching from exhaustion accumulated from the previous days, which made her pause and look over the half-formed blade in her hands.

That was when she heard it – the scrape of metal against metal. Llethasi spun around to find the source of the noise, her gaze landing on the scruffy child half-crouched behind the workbench, staring back at her with wide eyes, frozen with one hand on a sword she had just finished. Surprise made her speechless at first, then she regained her senses and took one imperious step towards the girl, who bolted the instant she moved – setting the chase in motion.

Agile and quick the child might be, she was still in Llethasi's territory…and stupid enough not to sprint out the front door, where less obstacles blocked her path. Instead she ran towards the back rooms, which were cluttered due to Llethasi's lack of attention. But the mess served her well now, slowing down the would-be thief's escape towards the open window, where she must have first slipped in.

Llethasi swiped a hand through the air, and the window slammed shut before the child could reach it. Escaped blocked, the girl changed direction in a heartbeat, making for the back door of the shop. But it was another futile attempt – the moment she pulled the door open, Llethasi cast the telekinesis spell again, slamming the door shut and trapping the girl at the end of the narrow hallway.

She frowned down at the girl, who backed up against the wall as she moved closer. A street urchin, no doubt – her long maroon hair was tangled and oily, skin covered in dust and dirt, worn clothes ragged and hanging off her thin body. Fearful red eyes met Llethasi's harsh gaze, and the girl swallowed nervously when she took another step forward.

"Stealing?" Llethasi asked, her sarcasm flat.

The girl shifted even closer against the door, her gaze twitching from Llethasi's eyes to the hallway behind her, as if looking for an escape. "I…didn't steal."

"Not yet."

"You can't bring me in for not stealing something yet!"

Llethasi cocked her head. "'Bring you in'? Good idea." She grabbed the girl's wrist, tightening her grip when the young one struggled. "I'll let the guards straighten you out so you won't steal anything else."

" _No!_ " The girl fought against her, but her small undernourished body could do little against Llethasi's strength. She tried to grab onto the doorframe when she was pulled out of the building, but a good yank was enough to dislodge her, allowing Llethasi to close the door behind them.

The child whined and begged and struggled as she was dragged down the back alleys, and she dug her heels into the ground when they neared the guard office, though it did her little good. Llethasi was still pulling her along with minimal effort.

"Please, don't!" the girl cried. "I don't wanna go back there! They'll beat me again!"

Llethasi stopped in her tracks beside the stone steps leading up to the guards' building. She turned around and found tears dripping down the girl's cheeks. "You've been caught before?"

The girl nodded. "Last week. It still hurts!"

She frowned. "How do I know you're not lying?"

The child let out another whine. "Please," she sobbed. "I won't go near your shop again. _Please_."

Llethasi hesitated at the girl's desperation, but her mind was set regardless. The girl would either be thrown into a cell for a couple of days to discourage her thieving behaviour, or she'd be given some care in a best case scenario – be it by the Temple or a kind soul. Bringing her to the guards would be the best course of action, instead of just letting loose a budding criminal.

But as she turned back towards the steps again, she was forced to halt when they were approached by a guard who had noticed their presence.

"Llethasi? Is everything alright–?" The guard's question trailed off when his eyes landed on the girl, and he squinted at her through the slit in his bonemold helm. "You again!"

The girl flinched at his exclamation, and she stepped back as far as possible, trying to hide behind Llethasi.

"Were you stealing again, you little fetcher? Seems we'll have to teach you another lesson." He advanced on the girl, a menacing aura radiating off his authoritative posture, and the girl whined again, trying to hide farther behind her captor.

Llethasi watched quietly as the guard moved ever so slowly towards her, his deliberate intimidation proving the truth in the girl's claims. She glanced back at the child, cowering with shoulders stooped and one arm held protectively across her face, and Llethasi tugged the girl fully behind her, stepping forth to stand between the two.

"She didn't steal," she said, when the guard blinked at her in surprise. "I found her being chased by two large rats. Was bringing her to the temple to get checked over."

The guard frowned at her, his incredulity obvious, but Llethasi couldn't care less. With a nod at him, she started walking again – away from the guard office this time, and without the girl fighting against her every move. Llethasi strode up the street without pause, the odd pair attracting a few curious glances as they marched up the stairs towards the highest district in town, and came to a stop some paces away from the temple's entrance.

Llethasi cast her eyes around, ensuring that the guard was nowhere to be found, then released the girl's wrist from her iron grip. Nodding ambiguously at the town, she said, "Go."

The girl stared at her, as if in disbelief at her own luck, but didn't need further prodding. She ran off quickly, making it halfway up the street, before disappearing into a dark alley.

Llethasi sighed, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind her ear.

 _I'd better not have made a mistake._

* * *

Llethasi didn't think much of the incident after that, except when she had to clean the grime from her palm, which had rubbed off on her from the urchin's unwashed skin. A few muttered curses was all she gave, before returning to her life as normal. Thefts were not an uncommon occurrence, not when her blades were known for their quality, and such attempts didn't unnerve her anymore.

But she was reminded of the incident a few days later, when she was cutting through the town's section of old warehouses, and caught sight of the very same girl huddled outside one of the buildings, sitting under the shade of a dusty roof. Unconsciously, Llethasi began walking towards the girl with a frown, realising the thing in the child's hand was a mouldy portion of bread.

The girl had just taken another bite out of the food that _shouldn't_ be food, when she noticed Llethasi's approach and looked up at her. Llethasi noted how she slid subtly onto her feet, body tense and ready to run at the first sign of trouble.

"Didn't take this from you," the girl said quietly, clutching the bread closer to her chest.

"Obviously not. I don't keep inedible food."

Glancing down the 'inedible' thing, the girl pouted, obviously taking offense. "This is still good."

"No, it's not. Stop eating that!" Llethasi took another step forward when the girl bit into the bread, all the while glaring at her in spite. "It's _unhealthy_."

"It's still good!"

"It is _not_ ," she growled, unimpressed by the girl's wilful ignorance. In one swift motion, she snatched the bread from the girl's hands and tossed it to the side, where it landed on soil still damp from last night's rain.

"That was _mine!_ " The girl leapt to her feet as she shouted, only to have her wrist trapped in Llethasi's grip, and then dragged away against her will. "Let me go! Where are you going! _Let me go!_ "

Llethasi tuned out the girl's protests, enduring the occasional scratch of rough nails on her arm, and made right for the market – her original destination. The girl quieted a little when they were surrounded by people, but it didn't stop her from struggling in Llethasi's hold until – oddly enough – the grip loosened, and she became still.

Bending down towards the girl, Llethasi said, "If you want some food, stay here."

The girl's brows furrowed, but Llethasi moved away before she could ask any questions. Nipping into the building, she smiled quickly at the baker's greeting, then ordered food enough for two. It was mere minutes later that she turned back to the corner where she had left the child, mildly surprised that she had stayed as ordered. But then again, it might not be surprising at all, judging from how the girl's eyes seemed captivated by the paper package in her hands.

Again, Llethasi took the girl by her wrist, but without any of her previous force. She kept her hold loose enough for the girl to break away easily, but the child followed her lead without question, until they reached a quiet corner of the town, and sat on a bench under the tree. Llethasi unwrapped the paper package, and gave the girl three hand pies filled with savoury guar filling. Her offering was accepted cautiously and, after she gave a nod, the child brought one to her mouth, eating with gusto.

Llethasi was still indulging in her own ash yam pie when the three pies had disappeared from the girl's hands. She raised a brow at the child, who had the decency to look a little sheepish, then offered the remaining two yam pies to her. "I can get more for myself," was all Llethasi had to say, before the girl relieved her of the pies and stuffed them into her mouth.

She had to bite down a snort at the sight, and handed the girl her water canteen when she was done with the food. With a nod, Llethasi let the girl drain the canteen of _all_ its contents – impressive, considering that it sometimes took Llethasi an entire day to finish.

The girl dragged the back of her hand over her mouth and set the canteen back on the bench, looking at Llethasi uncertainly, now that the main event was over. Llethasi shooed her away with a casual sweep of her hand, and the girl stood immediately, but she didn't forget to utter her thanks before taking off.

 _Well. At least she has some manners._

* * *

Llethasi didn't know why – and she didn't _want_ to know why – but a few days after their lunch under the tree, she left the baker's with two portions of food again. She strolled over to the warehouses, wrinkling her nose at the faint musty smell that wafted through the air, and found the girl sitting in the same spot…eating another piece of mouldy bread.

 _Where does she keep finding those?_

The girl had brought the bread up to her mouth when she spotted Llethasi, and she froze before taking a bite, then lowered it to try and hide it behind her back, cheeks growing dark with embarrassment.

"Come," Llethasi said, then walked on without a backward glance. She didn't have to check, knowing that the girl would be right behind her.

Sure enough, the girl was quick to join her on the same bench, trying and failing to hide a smile when Llethasi revealed her stash of tarts, bread, and meatloaf. This time, she had brought a separate mug for the girl, which was filled with herbal tea. All these, the girl finished with nearly as much speed as she did before. But Llethasi observed that she seemed to take just a little more time to savour the food and drink to pass her lips, eating with less urgency.

"Do you have a family?" Llethasi asked when the food was gone, and she was nursing her own cup of tea.

The girl shrugged, then seemed to think on it for a moment, before shaking her head firmly. "No."

"Then, where do you live?"

"I used to live in the sewers, but now I sleep near the town gates, behind the bushes."

"'Used' to live in the sewers? Why'd you move?"

"The others…kicked me out of the gang. Said I wasn't good enough 'cause I got caught." She pouted, sulking at the admission.

"Got caught? Stealing?" Llethasi asked, and the girl nodded. "You mean, when I caught you?"

"No. Before that, when the guards…" Her pout became more severe, and Llethasi decided to drop that line of questioning.

Drumming her fingers on her thigh, she asked, "Can I see where you sleep? And no, I'm not going to do anything. Just…curious."

But _why_ she was curious, she didn't know. The girl thought it over, her gaze falling to the empty package on the bench between them, before she looked up and nodded. Llethasi followed the girl to an area east of the old warehouses, beyond the cluster of huts belonging to poorer town citizens, and reached a dilapidated shack. The girl glanced at her, then brought her over to a window, which offered a clear view of the hovel's bare interior. Llethasi controlled her breathing to take in as little of the bad odour as possible, and looked over the beggars sitting on their scavenged bedrolls, surrounded by random belongings and trinkets.

She caught the hostile glance of one wizened old man, then averted her gaze, facing the girl again. "I suppose this is still better than the sewers?"

The child shrugged. "Not really."

* * *

Llethasi continued to share a meal with the girl every few days, and though she still couldn't fathom why she kept doing so, she did notice the girl smiling and talking much more, even if she refused to speak of how she passed her days. Dabbling in hobbies less than legal, most probably, and Llethasi was content _not_ to know. Besides, what with the charity that Llethasi had shown, she was fairly sure that the girl's unsavoury business would be decidedly none of hers for the foreseeable future.

That was, at least, until Llethasi butted her head into it.

She had been on the way to the bank, taking her usual shortcuts through the quieter portions of town, when she noticed a scuffle happening near the girl's resting place by the warehouse. A group of Dunmer kids, ranging from children to teens, were tussling with one another–, no.

Llethasi squinted, realising that there was a certain order to the chaos. They were kicking, punching, and scratching, yes. But their efforts were all aimed in one direction, towards the lone child trapped in the middle of their ring–

Her eyes widened when she recognised the girl, who was putting up a valiant attempt at fighting off her thuggish peers. She kicked and clawed, but always ended up doubled-over, winded by blows to her stomach and head. A particularly large boy kicked out at her, then shoved her with enough force that she broke through the circle, landing on the floor in a defeated heap.

The group jeered and moved onto her, but halted in their tracks when Llethasi quickly inserted herself between them and their target.

"The _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Llethasi barked.

A ratty girl with pigtails whispered to the large boy, _'It's her'_ , and he passed a scrutinising eye over 'her'. Llethasi narrowed her eyes, recognising that she'd be hard-pressed to fight this group physically, even if they were kids smaller than her. So she reached for a heavy hammer in the tool belt she still wore, and swung it to the side, smashing into the stack of empty, rotted crates beside the building.

"Touch her again," Llethasi growled, gathering magic visibly in her free hand. "And I'll _break_ each of your legs." When they remained rooted to the spot, she took a leaf out of the guard's book, and advanced upon them – causing the group to scatter immediately, not unlike a pack of skittish rats.

" _Pet_ ," the boy spat at the child behind Llethasi, before joining his group as they ran away.

"Shithead," Llethasi muttered under her breath, replacing the hammer in her belt. She turned around, and helped up the girl still huddled on the floor. "You alright?"

There were slight trembles in the girl's arms where Llethasi held her, but she said nothing, keeping her lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed into a frown. Bruises and cuts were scattered about her body, and Llethasi took her by the wrist again, bringing her back to the smithy.

She led the girl into one of the two backrooms – her 'office', as it were – and guided her towards the desk. Pulling the chair over, she gestured for the girl to sit, then went to retrieve her bundle of medical supplies from a cabinet. It was mostly untouched, save for the burn salve that Llethasi used on occasion.

Kneeling down, she coaxed the girl into removing her dirty shirt, and took stock of the injuries on her body. There was a particularly dark bruise over her ribs, but the girl shook her head when asked if breathing caused her any pain. Taking that as a good sign, Llethasi tended to the wounds on her torso first, then her arms, face, and neck. When she was done, the girl was still sulking quietly, though there was a slight quiver to her lip as she pulled her shirt back on.

Llethasi was forced to leave her alone then, tending to the customer who had just rung the bell. She'd had to suppress her impatience when the Imperial ranger took his sweet time examining each and every dagger she had on sale, before choosing two to his liking, and thankfully forewent any sort of haggling. And when Llethasi returned to her study, she was unsurprised to find the girl hunched over in the chair, crying into her hands.

Then, Llethasi was struck by indecision as she knelt before the girl again, hands hovering over the child, at a loss for what to do. She tried petting her head, wiping her cheeks with a clean cloth, massaging the girl's shoulders – but the child remained inconsolable in spite of her efforts. Llethasi cringed inwardly before she even did it, but circled her arms around the girl regardless, hugging her tentatively. It was thoroughly awkward, truth be told; both she and the girl were stiff, and the girl didn't lean into her or even clutch at her clothes – just sat there as if no one was with her at all.

Llethasi took to patting her back, convincing herself that it was working, until the sobs had died away, leaving the girl alone with her hiccups and hitched breaths. She wiped away the tears and snot on the child's face, then told her that she was free to stay in the backroom, if she wanted. The girl didn't react, and her dead, watery gaze was fixed blankly on the floor as Llethasi made her way out of the room.

In the evening, Llethasi closed up her shop earlier than usual, and went back to her office – which had seemed empty at first. But after a quick look around, she found the girl curled up on the floor behind the desk, fast asleep. Llethasi gently shook her awake, then held the bleary-eyed girl's hand, and led her back to her own house in the residential district.

She brought the girl into the bathroom, filling the tub with water and warming it with a touch of magic, then added liberal amounts of bath salts, turning the water into a pinkish shade. At her nod, the girl took off her clothes and climbed in uncertainly, hissing as she sat down.

"What's wrong?" Llethasi asked, and the girl raised her arm, pointing at her cuts in answer. "Oh. Does it…hurt a lot?"

The girl shook her head.

"Then just bear with it for a while. Now, wash the grime off your body – and dunk your head into the water." Llethasi waited as the girl did so, wetting her knotted mess of hair. "Good."

She set to work, first trying to rub soap into the girl's hair, before she got annoyed by all its uncombed tangles. The girl whined occasionally when she tugged at the knots too hard, but otherwise voiced no complaints, scrubbing away at her own dirty skin as Llethasi finally managed to comb the unruly knots out of her hair. The bath took a while, and the water was murky when they were done, but Llethasi felt rather proud as she looked the girl over – now clean…but with no clothes to wear. So she went on a hunt for the smallest clothes in the house, and turned up a shirt that fell to the girl's thighs, along with a pair of pants that had to be rolled up so they wouldn't trail on the floor and trip her over.

By the time the girl was in order, it was well past dinnertime. But she brought the girl up to the kitchen, where she threw together a pot of kagouti stew, fried two kwama eggs, poured a cup of reinvigorating tonic for the girl, and some mazte for herself. They ate in silence, and she noticed how the girl poked at the pieces of meat in her bowl listlessly, eating at a pace much slower than her past eagerness.

"You okay, kid?" Llethasi asked, after taking another draught of mazte.

The girl nodded.

"Aren't you hungry?"

Another nod, and her lack of response left Llethasi grasping for more topics of conversation. A few more bites of stew, then Llethasi probed gently, "Why were the kids beating you up?"

The girl stiffened. She poked her spoon into the stew and muttered, "They saw you feeding me."

"And what's wrong with that?" Llethasi asked incredulously. "You were hungry–, wait. Is that…why they called you a 'pet'?"

The child winced at the insult, and the spoon fell from her hand, as if she were loath to give more credence to the name.

"That was your old gang of sewer rats, wasn't it?" she guessed, recalling what little scraps of information the girl had given her before.

A nod.

Llethasi sighed. "Look, kid. Your gang's just a bunch of thick-headed s'wits. There is _nothing_ wrong with accepting help when you need it." The girl still didn't move, and Llethasi nudged the spoon towards her. "Think about it. What's stupid: eating proper food that someone else gave you, or spurning gifts and going hungry for the sake of pride?"

The girl snorted softly, and though she didn't wear a smile, there was a hint of it in her gaze as she looked back at her bowl of stew.

"Do you have anywhere to go, other than that shack?"

"No."

"Then you can sleep here for tonight. Yes," she added when the girl fixed her with a surprised stare. "I'm not letting you go back to that smelly, dirty hovel right after we spent an hour cleaning you up."

Light-hearted abashment coloured the girl's features as she gave a quiet huff. She reached back for the spoon, but then hesitated. "You're not…one of those people, are you?"

"Who?"

"I've heard stories of people selling kids like us to slave markets…"

Llethasi barked a laugh. "What, you think I'd sell you as a slave? Please. Who'd want a scrawny little thing like you, anyway?" The words flew from her mouth before she could catch them, and regret stabbed at her when she saw the girl's face twitch in response. "Relax, kid. I won't sell you, or give you away. Promise."

The girl stared at her for a few long seconds, then nodded.

* * *

Though Llethasi's offer had only been _'for tonight'_ , the girl ended up staying with her long enough that her little corner opposite Llethasi's bed had turned into a makeshift dwelling, complete with a thick bedroll and a box of secondhand clothes that Llethasi had scrounged from the neighbours. She was quite protective of it – and the old wooden toy horse that Llethasi had given her – and she slept with the box of her precious belongings beside her pillow every night.

The girl took to following Llethasi around for the next two weeks, trailing close to her heels like a lost puppy, clinging onto the hem of Llethasi's shirt, and getting her hand slapped each time she reached surreptitiously for something in the shops they entered. Llethasi had no problem with her little shadow, especially after the girl had pressed closed to her while they stood in the market one day, and she spotted a few urchins staring at her young charge. In fact, she felt more secure to have the child by her side, and instructed her not to wander off on her own – instructions the girl was more than happy to follow.

Since Llethasi spent much of her time in the smithy, the girl started helping around the shop as well, though with nothing important yet. Llethasi had her fetching tools, running messages in the direct vicinity, and cleaning up the shop at closing time – all menial labour, but the girl never protested once. She seemed more than happy to pull her weight in whatever capacity she could, though Llethasi couldn't help but wonder if it was healthy for an 8-year-old to spend most of her time in the shop, rather than with kids of her own age. She had told the girl to go play on slow days, but the child just shook her head, claiming that she was fine just staying put.

One day, Llethasi's merchant friend returned from her regular route around Vvardenfell, and they were having tea in the shop when Arisa surprised her by asking, "So, who's the lucky one?"

Llethasi, who had been watching the girl leave to fetch some supplies for the smithy, snapped her gaze towards her friend, tilting her head in confusion. "What?"

Arisa nodded at the door, where the girl had just left. "Not your daughter?"

"Ha!" Llethasi broke into a short laugh, slapping her thigh. "My 'daughter'! No, no. She's just…this girl I've taken in."

"For the long term?"

She shrugged, setting her cup of tea on the corner table they sat by. "I don't know. Maybe. For as long as she wants to stay, I guess."

Arisa chuckled, fingers brushing at the silver locks framing her face. "Really? I thought you didn't like others 'intruding into your personal space'."

"I don't," she sighed. "But the kid needs it right now, so…" She caught Arisa's bemused gaze. "What?"

"Think I've been away too long. I _almost_ can't believe you're the same woman I knew a year ago."

Llethasi snorted. "And I can't believe you thought I'd settled down."

"Well, I was worried," Arisa drawled, leaning over. "Thought you'd forgotten me."

She smiled when Arisa brushed their lips together in a tease. "How could I ever forget my insignificant other?"

* * *

Arisa occupied much of her attention for the following days, but one matter never left her mind despite the pleasing distraction. So she sat the girl down by the hearth one night, and asked, "Do you want to stay with me?"

A blink as the girl processed her question fully, then her eyes brightened at the invitation – but the gleam soon faded when her expression turned hesitant. She was wary about an offer too good to be true, perhaps. Llethasi never did specify that she could stay indefinitely, and the girl was still watching her own behaviour, careful not to do anything that might get her kicked out onto the streets.

"You can stay here like you've been doing, for as long as you want," Llethasi explained, to set her mind at ease. "I'll get you a bed, a drawer, and everything. All you have to do, is just keep helping me in the smithy, and my home is yours. Sounds good?"

"Yes!" the girl exclaimed with a grin.

Llethasi couldn't help but breathe a laugh when the girl started bouncing in her chair. "Alright, now. I…never really asked what your name was."

"They called me 'Clatter'," the girl said. "Because the first time I…" Her voice wavered uncertainly. "The first time I stole, I tripped over the chef's pots and made a lot of noise."

"Huh. Do you like it?"

A pout, followed by a shake of her head.

"Well, I think it's stupid too. But I can't keep calling you 'kid'. You need a name – a _proper_ one. Any suggestions?"

The girl shrugged.

"Up to me, then," Llethasi sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling, then gazed into the fire for inspiration. "How about…Vareysa. Do you like it?"

Another shrug. But this time, it was followed by a thoughtful tilt of her head, then a nod.

Llethasi smiled. "Vareysa, it is."

* * *

Vareysa took a while to get used to her name, often letting Llethasi's calls for her fly over her head, not registering that _she_ was the one being summoned. But she got used to it in time, and the nameless girl hanging around the smithy was slowly recognised by the townspeople, cementing her new identity and – by extension – her new life.

They spent the next few months together quite naturally, but it seemed the proper start to Vareysa's life still had a few hurdles for them to clear.

Llethasi had been preoccupied at the time, checking over the newly-forged blades that the guard had commissioned from her. Then she told Vareysa to read the order slip out to her, just to make sure that she'd covered all the details specified by the customer. But her request wasn't met with Vareysa's voice, and was instead answered by the girl holding the parchment out to her.

"Well? Read it out."

"I can't read."

She was left staring at the girl, wondering how she'd forgotten to ask. Taking the parchment, she said, "Do you want to learn?"

Vareysa nodded eagerly, and so Llethasi started tutoring her at night, teaching her the basic alphabet and phrases, making her write them neatly on countless pieces of parchment. Her name was the very first word she mastered, then Llethasi's, before her diligence slipped, and the rest of her exercises turned into lazy scrawls across the pages. Still, she kept at it under Llethasi's watchful eye, and took to reading books when she had nothing to do in the shop. Fiction about heroic warriors and sly thieves were her particular favourite, while the encyclopedia Llethasi bought for her remained largely neglected – that was, until she started reading about adventurers and their journeys throughout Tamriel, which piqued her interest in the larger world, inspiring her to learn more about it.

Soon, Vareysa's ability to learn fast became obvious – she needed Llethasi's help in reading or understanding things at first, but her questions grew fewer and less often, until she was devouring book after book with little help, and could discuss the books' contents in a very coherent and reasonable manner. Taking this as a good sign, Llethasi suggested that she joined the Temple's classes for further study, to learn advanced arithmetic and possibly find more subjects that she might be interested in. Vareysa agreed, and Llethasi brought her to the temple in town the next day.

"Ah, many thanks for your donation, child." The priest smiled when Llethasi set a coin pouch on his table – a modest fee in exchange for Vareysa's education. "Now, it is Vareysa, isn't it?" His benevolent smile grew wider when the girl nodded fervently, and he started writing her name on the roster. "Vareysa…Nilven?"

Llethasi blinked at the mention of her family name, and stared blankly when the priest looked up at her in question. She'd forgotten to take this into consideration…

She glanced down at Vareysa, who was gazing at her as well. The girl's face was placid, and held only curiosity that was free of any expectation. But something about putting Vareysa's name by itself just…seemed wrong.

"Yes," Llethasi said, returning the girl's smile. "It's Nilven."

* * *

School kept Vareysa busy since then, and she began mingling with the other kids during her after-school hours, often returning with stories of how they played games in the courtyard, and the times when they ventured out of town to fish or follow a wild guar they had spotted. Once, she had returned with a small assortment of flowers clutched in her hand, and when she held them out to Llethasi, they learned of her allergy from the rash on her skin. Still, she wore a grin as Llethasi spread ointment over her palm, and would diligently water the new pots of flowers set up by the smithy's entrance.

Despite her newfound occupation as a student, Vareysa never failed to show up at the smithy before it closed for the day, determined to help around the shop as she did before. The girl didn't have to, really, but she seemed to take some pride in being useful, so Llethasi made sure to leave some chores waiting for her in the evenings, and rewarded her with a good meal at night.

There were times when Llethasi was swamped with orders – especially when the _damned_ entitled guards demanded to have an impossible quantity of blades forged within too short a time – and Vareysa helped to care for her instead, tending to the shop while Llethasi was busy at the forge, and leaving some dinner at the smithy so she wouldn't forget to eat. More often than not, the food would be cold by the time Llethasi remembered it, but she made sure to eat it all so the girl's efforts wouldn't be wasted.

 _Should've heated it up first though_ , Llethasi reminded herself for the umpteenth time, feeling the subtle weight of cold food in her stomach, already knowing full well that she'd make the same mistake next time.

She sniffed as she walked down from the kitchen, and headed towards the room that had been repurposed into Vareysa's quarters, finding the girl in the process of climbing into bed.

"It's well past your bedtime, young lady."

"Yours, too," Vareysa riposted, sticking out the tip of her tongue.

"Little shit," Llethasi snorted. She strode over to the bed, waiting for Vareysa to finish wriggling into place beneath the covers, then sat by her side. "How was school?"

"Okay. Boring," Vareysa said. "The lessons are so slow. I can go faster than the teacher."

"They're going slow because they want you to _understand_ the lessons, Vareysa. Make sure you pay attention in class."

"Yeah, yeah." Vareysa pouted. "Do I…really have to go to class? Every day?"

" _Yes_ ," Llethasi intoned. "You don't think it's important now, but it'll help you go far in life, you hear?"

"Yeah," Vareysa conceded, though her petulant pout remained.

Sighing softly, Llethasi stroked the top of her head. "Now, go to sleep. You'll need that energy for all your boring classes tomorrow."

Vareysa smiled, biting on her lip. "Mm. Night, mom."

 _Mom._ Llethasi very nearly huffed to herself again. She couldn't recall just _when_ in the last year Vareysa had started calling her that; she couldn't even remember how she first felt about it. Maybe she'd felt touched. Maybe she thought it was to be expected, nothing to fuss over. It didn't matter now – she only knew it sounded natural to her ears, to be 'mother' to a girl who seemed to love her…as much as Llethasi did her.

 _Damn it, when did I get so soft?_

Llethasi smiled, and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Sweet dreams, kid."

* * *

"Stop playing with my daggers. You'll damage them."

"What, not worried I'll slice my fingers off?"

"If you lose your fingers, that's your own fault and none of my business," Llethasi snipped back, rolling her eyes when Vareysa shot her a lop-sided grin.

The 16-year-old was lounging in her chair by the shop front, casually twirling the dagger between her fingers, before setting it back into the display case without incident. After her education at the temple was completed, Vareysa took her place back in Llethasi's smithy as her shop hand, learning from her mother how to balance accounts, keep stock, and handle the transactions with their customers. Llethasi had tried to teach Vareysa how to work the forge, but the girl bore a lick of impatience that _always_ distracted her focus, and her half-hearted attempts at smithing resulted in shoddy blades that couldn't slice through even the thinnest plank.

Vareysa's interest in the forge died out soon after that, and though she tried taking on odd jobs with the other shops, she never found something that could hold her in place for long. And so, Llethasi's smithy remained the place she spent the most time in, though her mother started worrying about how listlessly she passed her days – as if Vareysa was trapped in a place where she couldn't discover her own niche.

But one thing Llethasi did notice, was how deftly the girl handled her mother's weapons, despite a lack of training. Her itchy fingers would reach for a sword or dagger, and start twirling it around in her boredom, more for self-amusement than anything. Llethasi wondered though, if she couldn't develop it further…

"Reysa."

"Hm?" Vareysa looked up at her mother, who had joined her by the shop front.

"Do you want to learn how to use a blade?"

"What, really!" The girl perked up immediately, straightening in her seat, but her shoulders soon slumped when she remembered, "But I'm not old enough to join the Fighters Guild yet."

" _I_ can teach you."

"You?"

Llethasi cocked a brow at her daughter's incredulous tone. "What, you think I'd forge all these weapons and not know how to use them?"

"Well…" Vareysa drawled, then her eyes widened when Llethasi reached for the same blade she was playing with, twirling it between her fingers, and flung it at the training dummy in the corner of the shop. The dagger sank right into the strawman's chest, its hilt quivering slightly from the sharp impact. "Whoa! How–, you never told me you could do that!"

"I can do more than just that little party trick, you know." Llethasi smirked, shrugging airily. "Have I ever mentioned that I was in the Guild when I was younger?"

" _Shit_ , really?" Vareysa pounced forward, wrapping both arms around her mother's waist as she broke out her best puppy eyes. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Only if you cook dinner for the whole of this week."

"Yes, yes! Now tell me!"

* * *

Vareysa showed more enthusiasm in the martial arts than any hobby she'd ever dabbled in; she'd pester Llethasi endlessly for more, more, and _more_ lessons, and even built her own little training ground outside the shop, where she'd practice blade strokes and fighting forms when business was slow.

Though she'd shown ample skill at using a sword, axe, and spear, Vareysa's favourite weapon was the dagger, which she soon wielded with a dexterity that matched Llethasi's, and would no doubt surpass her mother when she was finally given the proper training. But when she turned 18, her desire to join the Fighters Guild had waned somewhat, after learning about the rigours that came tied with their strict hierarchy. She told Llethasi that she wanted to think on it further, then spent her time learning archery instead. Armed with this new skill and Llethasi's training, Vareysa started her own vocation as a hunter, supplying the local butcheries with fresh meat, and taking on bounties for aggressive herds that threatened the safety of travelers and the townspeople.

She seemed content enough with her chosen path – that was, until she turned 22, and she announced her renewed desire to sign on with the Fighters Guild. Llethasi had raised a brow at the girl's sudden change of heart, but was more than willing to support the girl's endeavour anyway – and perhaps even more so, after her sharp eyes had spotted what might be Vareysa's _true_ motive.

"Calm down," Llethasi said, slipping a folded letter into her pocket as she joined Vareysa by the door, her daughter bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly. "Or you'll explode before you even reach the guild."

Vareysa whined, "Come on, mom! Let's _go_ already." She adjusted the straps of her backpack on her shoulders, then grabbed Llethasi by the arm and dragged her through the door of their home.

"Don't be so impatient, you little s'wit. It's not going to do you good in the Guild," Llethasi said, falling in step beside Vareysa as they made their way towards the local guild hall.

"I'm not impatient!" Vareysa retorted. "I just want to make a good impression by turning up early."

"Right… All this trouble for just one person." She smirked when Vareysa blanched at her words. "I've seen her around – quite a strapping warrior, isn't she? What's her name, Telsi? Telesi? Tenisi–?"

Vareysa groaned out loud. "It's Telsi, and you damn well know it. Now stop trying to embarrass me."

Llethasi chuckled. "Come now, dear. There's nothing embarrassing about liking someone. In fact, I'm surprised you're still this shy, considering how you've had–"

"Alright, enough about me!" Vareysa cut in loudly as they turned into the street leading out of the market, walking up the gentle slope towards the Fighters Guild. "What about _you?_ "

"And, what about me?"

" _Arisa_ ," Vareysa sang close to her ear, then made kissy sounds that had Llethasi rolling her eyes.

"You know she's my–"

"'Insignificant other', oh yes. But I've seen the way you two look at each other. It's so mushy that I could just _puke_ –" Vareysa cackled when a palm smacked into her face lightly. "Come now, mom," she simpered, in a poor imitation of Llethasi just seconds before. "There's nothing embarrassing about liking someone."

Llethasi rolled her eyes, reaching for the guild's doors. "Say any more, and I'll tell the guild master to make your life hell."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me." Llethasi walked in with Vareysa close to her side, returning the greetings of guild members who recognised her – which was nearly all of them. It didn't hurt to have good rapport with the one who made their weapons, after all.

As they made their way past the training floor, a warrior clothed simply in a sleeveless tunic paused in the middle of her sword routine, and waved at Vareysa. Llethasi looked at her daughter quickly enough to catch the bashful smile as she waved back, with a faint flush on her cheeks.

Llethasi must not have hidden her snort of laughter well enough, because Vareysa pouted and shot her a withering glance.

* * *

Vareysa's initiation into the Fighters Guild went off without a hitch, and according to the guild master, she had breezed through the mandatory training – which Llethasi took no small amount of pride in. Her first two years with the guild was uneventful, if a little 'boring' – as Vareysa was apt to say each time she came home to visit her mother. It was to be expected – all recruits were made to grind and polish their skills with simpler missions, which usually involved some basic task of dispatching dangerous wildlife and the occasional bandit. Nothing to get excited over, really.

As Vareysa rose in rank, however, her troubles started. She was never one to treat rules and regulations as sacrosanct, and had shocked Llethasi in the past whenever she turned up at the smithy, holding trade documents that were _private_ property of other merchants or officials. She meant well, of course – those documents always revealed terms that would put Llethasi at a disadvantage in the market, and thus gave her a leg up on the bastard trying to screw her over. Though she had told Vareysa to stop thieving, the girl never did – insisting that she refused to let anyone cheat her mother, and that Llethasi was free to act on the information however she saw fit. So Llethasi was forced to accept her daughter's actions – even if, on occasion, she had turned a blind eye when Vareysa hauled home sacks of ingots and tools that her supplier claimed was 'lost' or 'unobtainable'.

Unfortunately, the Fighters Guild didn't possess even a sliver of Llethasi's…flexibility. Vareysa's superiors had deplored her unorthodox methods again and again, and Vareysa chafed badly under their rules and penalties, not to mention their constant lectures to stay on the straight and narrow. She'd crashed at home often in that rough period of time, lamenting to her mother that she didn't belong in the guild anymore, that it felt as if she was just one foot away from the door. Llethasi only said that she had two choices: she could grit her teeth and change her ways, or quit the Guild and find her own path in life.

Vareysa had fallen quiet then, and surprised Llethasi by deciding to stay with the Guild – her mother had been expecting otherwise, but Llethasi gave her support regardless.

After that, it was obvious that Vareysa had put some effort into changing, because Llethasi's friends within the Guild had reported that her daughter wasn't stirring up as much trouble as before. There were still minor transgressions now and again, but they were inconsequential in light of the success of their missions, and Vareysa was let off the hook easily.

And so, Vareysa spent the next fourteen years with the guild. It was a very respectable length of service, which made Llethasi all the more bewildered when Vareysa showed up at home one night, with two packs and a box full of her belongings.

"Reysa? What are you doing–"

"Mom, don't get up," Vareysa said quickly, when Llethasi set her book on the table and started to rise from her chair by the fireplace. Bustling over to the table, Vareysa dropped her belongings onto the floor, and pulled a chair over to sit in front of Llethasi. "I left the Guild."

A moment passed in silence as Llethasi digested the information, then nodded slowly. "Alright. But why?"

"My last mission was a failure. And yes, I know, failures do happen. But that's not the reason. Just listen." Vareysa waited for her mother to nod again, before speaking, "So, our last contract was from this Telvanni wizard. He wanted our protection for an unspecified length of time, because he believed the Morag Tong was after him. And he was right. A huge fight went down, and he died along with two guild brothers. So…yeah. That was that."

"And?" Llethasi prodded.

"And we went back to the Guild in shame, got reprimands, the usual. Then…a week ago, someone found me. The assassin who killed the Telvanni wizard. Relax," she added when Llethasi gripped her hand tightly. "There's no writ on my head. He just wanted to talk."

Llethasi's heart sank slowly – a part of her already knew where this was going.

"Said he was impressed with the way I fought, so he did some digging into my Guild records. And…apparently, I _might_ be Morag Tong material. So he invited me to their headquarters, and I'm free to seek them out should I ever feel inclined to join."

"And…" Llethasi's gaze dropped to the bags on the floor. "You've decided?"

"Kind of. Probably? Thought I'd just come back here and…think it over."

"You'd better. Vareysa," Llethasi sighed, grasping her daughter's arm. "This isn't a decision to be made lightly. Once you're in, I don't think there's an easy way out."

"I know."

She frowned at how quickly Vareysa's reply came. "My dear, you _have_ to think this through. _Carefully_. They…kill people for a living."

"That's what I did in the Fighters Guild too."

"It's not the same–"

"How is it not?" Vareysa cut in. "Both groups kill people. It's just that one group doesn't treat it like something moral, doesn't act like it's a damned _favour_."

Llethasi let out a heavy breath and shook her head, at a loss for words. A Morag Tong assassin… It wasn't a dishonourable profession, even if the Tong had its share of critics. But known assassins were treated warily, given a wide berth by the common citizen. They were danger personified, and peril followed them in turn. Vareysa was right – both the Guild and the Tong killed, of course. But with the Tong, the targets were more influential, the stakes were higher, and the agents often worked alone, without support. And the mere thought of her own daughter throwing herself into such peril was…unbearable.

She swallowed nervously, then said, "I don't like it, Vareysa."

"I know."

"But you're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

Vareysa wore an apologetic smile, guilt showing in the furrow of her brows. "Yes. I've quit the Guild, haven't I? Mom," she said when Llethasi sighed again. "I've spent the last fourteen years dying a slow death with them. I think I'll go _insane_ if I stay with the Guild any longer."

"And you're not using that as an excuse to join the Morag Tong?"

Vareysa huffed. "That's what I'm afraid of. But I _do_ know that I want to be with people who'll appreciate my methods, not slap me on the wrist each time I do something they judge 'wrong' – even when it saves our contract."

Llethasi stared into her daughter's eyes, recognising the steely note beneath red irises, and knew she wouldn't be swayed. Lowering her gaze, Llethasi took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "You're staying for a week, yes?"

"Yup."

"…I need some time to let this sink in."

"Then I'll stay however long you need."

* * *

Two weeks was how long Llethasi needed to accept Vareysa's decision, then another one week to pamper her daughter silly, before Vareysa made her way to Vivec City to start a new chapter in her life. Both their eyes had shimmered dangerously when Llethasi saw her off at the silt strider stand, but they managed to part with a smile and a light-hearted bicker. Llethasi stayed on the stand for the longest time, and only left when the strider had become but a speck in the distance.

The first weeks had left Llethasi a worried wreck at home, and the first year had seen her heart racing each time she received a letter, fearing that it would be a notification of her daughter's demise. Vareysa's regular letters home helped to set her mind at ease, though Llethasi did miss having the girl just within arm's reach, so to speak – to be able to see and talk to Vareysa whenever she wanted, with just a few minutes' walk across town. It took a while for Llethasi to get used to her life alone, and she kept each of Vareysa's letters safely in her desk at home, which she reread whenever she needed a small measure of comfort.

And so, the years passed in this manner – mother and daughter kept apart, only seeing each other in cherished reunions when Vareysa returned home with a gift or two. As it turned out, Vareysa's bet had paid off – she was right in looking for a brotherhood within the Morag Tong, having found her place easily among their numbers, and she climbed the ranks higher and faster than she ever did in the Fighters Guild. As she did so, her work grew more demanding, which in turn kept her away from home for even longer periods of time, but her mother had her own hands occupied as well.

In the fifty-six years that Vareysa spent in the Morag Tong, Llethasi's business had expanded substantially. The volume of orders had grown so much in the initial years, that she'd had to hire a shop hand and take in an apprentice to keep up with demand. As time went by, she expanded the smithy as her reputation grew, and she landed a contract with House Redoran to supply nearly thirty percent of their warriors' weapons. Her account in the bank was brimming with abundance, and she used the extra gold to buy over a recently-vacated shop next to her smithy, renting it out to an ex-Guild armoursmith, who was now also her business partner.

She was doing _very_ well, and had little on her mind to worry about – until Vareysa returned home again, with news that she would be traveling to the Summerset Isles for a contract. Her daughter's smile was fixed in the same devilish curve that she'd adopted over the years, but Llethasi could tell she was hiding something beneath that cheerful veneer. Despite her misgivings, Llethasi didn't ask – she had learnt not to, for sake of not getting into affairs darker than she cared to imagine.

Instead, she expressed her worry over and over again throughout Vareysa's short stay at home; the lands were in such turmoil due to the Alliance War, and to travel so far from home – into enemy territory, no less – was akin to seeking one's death on _purpose_. But Vareysa kept giving her one reassurance after another, always with that light-hearted smile as she told her mother not to worry – that she could take care of herself, that she'd be home safe. It never worked, and on the day when Vareysa left, Llethasi's mind felt a little heavy from all the sleep she had lost over her daughter.

"Here, take this." Llethasi held out the neatly-folded periwinkle blue scarf, getting a raised brow from Vareysa.

"What's that for?" Vareysa asked, eyeing the scarf as she stowed away the brand new dagger her mother had just given her.

"It's for you. Bring it along, just in case. You never could stand the cold."

"It's Summerset, mom. The only things truly cold there, are the Altmer." Vareysa chuckled, but accepted the scarf anyway. She held it in her hands, gazing down at the scarf with a slight smile on her lips, which grew brighter when she looked back up. She grasped Llethasi by the shoulders, pressed a kiss to her cheek, then wrapped both arms around her mother, squeezing her in a tight hug.

"I love you, mom."

Llethasi breathed a laugh, running one hand down her daughter's maroon tresses. "Love you too, dear."

* * *

 **A/N:** Aneril's equivalent will come after this, then maybe some of their adventures prior to ESO's events.


End file.
